Lust in action
by QueenOfMischief13
Summary: Shakespeare and professor Hiddleston


LUST IN ACTION

"Don't forget to turn in your paper. You know how Professor Hiddleston gets about late stuff." You and your roommate, Emma, both have Professor Hiddleston's Shakespeare 1 class. However, despite the fact that you both have very high GPAs, in his class neither of you has been able to push past that B+ into an A. It isn't just you, though. _Everyone_ struggles in his class.

"I know, don't worry. It's already done, I just have to email it to him."

"Which one did you do?"

"129 of course." You raise your eyebrows at her, nodding your head and smirking mischievously. She knows why. Picking which sonnet to explicate was a no-brainer.

"Oh my god, I did 138. Do you think it's that obvious?"

"I think he likes it. Asshole."

"Probably." Grabbing her backpack and keys, Emma makes her way to the door. "See you later!"

With a wave, she breezes out of your small apartment, leaving you to your laptop. Professor Hiddleston may be a pain in the ass as a teacher, but he is deliciously gorgeous. Tall, perfect bone structure, sexy British accent, light aquamarine eyes that sparkle like the ocean on a sunny morning… _sigh_. You can't stop thinking about him. Everyone has a crush on him, though. And who wouldn't? He could have easily been a model. He's really that attractive.

Determined to get an A in his class, you've been working extra hard. Not least on the list of reasons why is to impress him. And of course, if you can subtly get the message across that you want his body, that would be good too. Perhaps that's why you chose to do your explication on a sonnet completely about sex?

It's only 6, and the paper isn't due until 8, so you decide to work a little bit on an erotic story you've been writing. Lots of sex, some spanking, and a male character that coincidentally resembles the aforementioned professor: it's pure porn. He's just so hot, though, and you're so sexually frustrated. You masturbate thinking about his strong hands between your legs. His lips on your cleavage. You imagine being bent over his desk as he spanks you for getting a bad grade. Fucks you from behind, his breath hot against your ear. _Oh god_.

But you're exhausted. You were up all last night working on your paper and studying for a Poli Sci test. Just as you put the finishing touches on your sexy story, you fall asleep, the laptop still on your legs.

When you next open your eyes, you panic. It's 7:55! You rush to save your paper and email it off to Professor Hiddleston before the deadline. Satisfied that you've made it, you go back to look over your story. When you open up the file, though, it's not your erotic story, but your explication. An abyss of dread rips into your stomach as you check your email. You didn't send Professor Hiddleston your essay. You sent him porn. Porn you wrote. About him.

_This cannot be happening._ It's bad enough that you sent him your filthy story, but you've also missed his deadline. And he never, ever accepts late papers. You'll get a failing grade, and there goes your A, possibly even your B. Now you're freaking out so badly, you start to hyperventilate. You print out a copy of the explication and rush out the door, hoping to catch him in his office.

Few people are around the English department at 8:20 on a Friday. But, luckily, you see a light on in Professor Hiddleston's office. Now, though, you're so apprehensive you don't want to go in. _What am I supposed to say? Maybe he hasn't looked at it yet. Oh my god, if he read it I'll die._ But your desire to save your grade wins out, and you take a deep breath and tentatively knock on the door.

"Come in!" That voice already has you even more nervous as you open the door. You tiptoe in, standing in the open doorway.

"Umm.. Professor Hiddleston? Can I talk to you for a second?"

"Close the door please." His voice is stern as he looks up at you. He doesn't smile.

"Uh, okay." You venture in farther and close the door, fidgeting with the hemline of your skirt. You keep your eyes down, trying to avoid his gaze, but it's futile. You can't help but look up. _Why is he so attractive?_

"Yes?" He asks brusquely.

"Umm, well, I had a little issue with my essay and it turns out I sent you the wrong file…"

"And?" He prompts you impatiently.

"And I was hoping you could delete the other file and I brought you a copy of my paper to show…"

"So you think I should give you special consideration?" He rests his finger on his bottom lip, rubbing it just a little as he looks you up and down. Suddenly you feel underdressed in your skirt and tanktop.

"I- no…" Exasperated, you sigh. You aren't sure why you're here really. "Actually, maybe can you just delete the file and I'll take the F?"

He rubs his chin for a moment, then adjusts his glasses. "After all this, rushing all the way down here, you're really going to just take a failing grade? You must have come here for a better reason than that." He stands up and begins to move across the room. "Or is this about that dirty story you sent me? Are you embarrassed that I know your fantasies now?"

All the color drains from your face, your mouth hanging open. You're speechless, and you don't know what to do. And what's worse, he's slowly walking towards you. "I'm sorry, Professor, I didn't mean to send you the story, honestly, and I swear I did the paper. I have it…" Holding up the paper, you feel ridiculous now. He takes it from you, then leans in, and for a moment you think he's going to kiss you. Instead, he reaches his hand behind you and locks the door. You can't decide if that's better or worse, but the smell of his cologne is intoxicating and after a moment you just don't care.

"So this is your explication, hmm? 129." He chuckles a little, and you begin to blush. This is all so embarrassing. "I should have known you'd pick this one." He turns around, your paper under his arm. "Come here, darling."

_Darling._ Hearing that word, uttered in that voice, your panties immediately become wet. You walk towards the desk and stop, trying to pull your skirt down so it isn't so revealing. He picks up a book and pages through it until he finds what he's looking for. Pushing some papers to the side, Professor Hiddleston centers the book on the desk, then motions you closer. "You have a crush on me don't you?"

"I don't… I mean, n-no." Stuttering, you sound pathetic. It's so obvious, your breath is quickening and you haven't stopped chewing on your lip since you entered the room.

"Oh come now. Don't lie. The character in your story? That isn't me?"

"No…" He stares at you, his head cocked to one side, one eyebrow raised. It can't get any worse, so you might as well admit it. "Yes.." Your voice is barely audible, and as you sneak a glance, you see a smirk curl across his lips.

"Have you ever touched yourself while thinking of me?" His voice has turned husky, the lust obvious.

You squeeze your eyes shut. "Yes."

"And you want me to do all of those things you wrote about in your story? Spank you? Fuck you until you scream my name?"

You exhale, shakily, then answer bluntly: "Yes."

"Well I'm very pleased that you have the integrity to be honest with me. I cannot, however, allow you to turn your paper in late. That would be unfair to the rest of the class."

"But Professor Hiddleston…" Tears begin to well up in your eyes as you look up at him.

"Now, let me finish," he admonishes you, retrieving the wooden pointer he loves to use during class. "I cannot allow you to turn in your paper late, _but_…"

"_But_ what?"

He circles behind you. "But I would be willing to do an examination of sorts." Before you can ask, his hands are on your hips, and his body is touching yours. His erection pressed against your ass, you're so turned on now you can barely speak.

"Mmm-hmm…" You're breathing faster, his cologne permeating your senses.

"Place your forearms on the desk, on either side of the book."

"Wait, what?" For a second you think you misheard him.

"I said…" His mouth is so close to your ear now, he repeats it, his voice airy, "Place your forearms on the desk."

You lean forward and put your arms down next to the book. The awkward position forces your skirt up, and you pull at it trying to keep it down. He swats your hands with the pointer. You're shocked, but also incredibly turned on. "Leave the skirt alone. Now arch your back."

"But…"

'I'm not going to keep repeating myself, do you understand?" Nodding, you arch your back. Now your ass is in the air, your panties exposed to him. "Read the first two lines."

"_The expense of spirit in a waste of shame/ Is lust in action; and till action, lust_," you read in a shaky voice, still uncertain as to what Professor Hiddleston has in mind.

"Now name one literary device Shakespeare uses in those lines."

"Umm… I don't know. Can I look at my paper?'

Without saying a word, he brings the pointer down against the backs of your thighs and it connects with an audible smack. You yelp, trying to stand up, but he leans up against you, his body engulfing yours, and puts your hands back where they were.

"No. Moving. Now…" He stands back up and taps the pointer on the book. "Answer the question."

"Umm… the second line has epanalepsis, because it repeats _lust_ at the beginning and end with _action_ in between."

"Good, and why would Shakespeare do that?"

"To emphasize the word _lust_. Because his poem is saying sex for purely lustful reasons is shameful."

"Very good darling; keep reading."

"_Is perjured, murderous, bloody, full of blame,/ Savage, extreme, rude, cruel, not to trust,/ Enjoy'd no sooner but despised straight,/ Past reason hunted and no sooner had/ Past reason hated, as a swallow'd bait,_ "

"Perfect. And what can you find in those lines?" He stands to the side, his left hand on the small of your back, his right hand poised to strike at the moment of your failure.

"Uhh.. I think… He repeats _Past reason_ at the beginning of the last two lines to show the contrast between those who are chasing after lust and those who have had their lust fulfilled." You can't remember the name of the device. It's on the tip of your tongue, and you know he's going to ask you.

"And that is called what, sweetheart?" The term of endearment is undermined by the chill in his voice. He's liking this. A lot.

Trembling just slightly, you finally offer, "I don't remember."

"Okay, darling, I can give you half credit. Only five lashes. And the term is anaphora." He brings the wooden pointer down on your ass five times, but you do not move this time. Your whimpers, however, refuse to be quieted. "Shh… I know it hurts." It does hurt, but it hurts exactly the way you thought it would when this fantasy was playing out in your head: perfectly.

You sniffle pitifully, a few tears trickling down your cheeks, but you continue reading. "_On purpose laid to make the taker mad;/ Mad in pursuit and in possession so;/ Had, having and in quest to have, extreme;/ A bliss in proof, and proved, a very woe;/ Before, a joy proposed; behind, a dream._" You take a second to try and remember, but you're having trouble recalling what you wrote in your paper.

"Time's almost up," he chastises you softly.

Luckily, just as you're about to give in, you notice the repetition. "He repeats _mad_ at the end of the line 8 and beginning of line 9 for emphasis, and that's called anadiplosis." You're so proud, you smile, expecting praise for your answer.

"Name a different device for those same two words."

"Professor Hiddleston, that's not fair!" Your complaint brings two swift blows, much harder than the others. "Oww!"

"Question me again and you fail. Understand?"

"Yes," you pout.

"Now what is the other device that can be applied for the two _mad_s?" As he waits, he runs the wooden pointer between your legs, eliciting a soft moan from your lips.

"I- I can't think…" You can barely remember your own name now, as he teases you mercilessly, his other hand now massaging your back in little circles, his cock pressed against your hip.

"Ten lashes it is," he begins, but you stop him.

"No, I know it,it's… it's… it's because they have two different meanings. It's called, umm… antanaclasis.'

"Wonderful job, darling. Almost finished. Then I'll give you your reward. But this time, I'm going to test your concentration as well." He flips your skirt up over your ass and tugs your panties down. You gasp, shocked at his sudden boldness, but aching for him to be inside you. Oh so lightly, he runs a finger along your slit. "God, you are so wet."

"I… can't… please, Professor," you plead. All you want now is for him to take you in every way imaginable. He puts the pointer on his desk and slides one long, slender finger into you.

"Finish. Now." His voice is even colder now, and it makes you shiver slightly. He doesn't remove his finger though. Instead, he pumps it gently back and forth as you try your best to read the last two lines.

"_All this world well knows; yet none knows well/ To shun the heaven that leads men to this hell_… Oh god, please!" Your voice cracks as you writhe beneath his agile hands.

"One more, sweetheart, that's all. Then I'll give you what you want."

"I can't!"

Pulling his fingers from you he begins to spank you, this time with his hand. You think you're going to pass out. You push your ass to him, begging him to spank you harder, begging him to fuck you already. You're not embarrassed anymore, you just want his cock inside you. "If you stop now, you will only get a B. Don't you want an A?"

"Let me earn it in a different way," you beg, shedding every single inhibition. He spins you around, pressing his lips to yours, his tongue urgent as he pulls you to him, his beard scratching your lips.

"Then get on your knees, darling." Professor Hiddleston leans back on the desk and you drop to your knees, undoing his trousers as quickly as you can and pulling his rigid cock from its confines. You immediately start lapping the pre-cum from the tip, and he grabs your hair, groaning softly. Languidly you lick up and down his shaft, until he gets so excited he grabs you by the head, forcing you to deep throat him. You gag a little but gradually you get used to the size, his hips moving in perfect rhythm as you bob up and down. Pulling back, you stroke his cock with one hand, cupping his balls softly with the other, your mouth still sucking gently. "Oh god, darling, that's… just… _brilliant_."

"Thank you Professor," you purr, fluttering your eyelids as you look up at him.

"Stand up," he beckons, and you oblige. He picks you up, setting you on the edge of the desk and kissing you passionately, his tongue dancing against your lips. Taking a condom packet from his pocket, he opens it, his eyes full of lust, staring at you as he rolls it on. "Now lie back." You do, and he wraps your legs around his waist, teasing his cock along your velvety folds.

"Please, Professor, please…"

"Tell me what you want."

"I want you to fuck me…"

He positions himself at your entrance, then thrusts into you decisively as you grab the desk for support. "Mmm.. god you're so tight." He reaches down, deftly rubbing your clitoris with his thumb as you whimper with delight. He rocks his hips a little, pulling your legs over his shoulders, adding leverage and causing his cock to delve deeper. Now he's grazing your G-spot with every thrust. Then he orders you: "Touch yourself."

You obey, every part of your body now under his command. Quickly you find your clitoris, gradually rubbing faster until your pace equals his. His cock is so big, but the pain is just the perfect addition to your sore ass, the endorphins only adding to your glorious pleasure. You can feel the exquisite tension building, and before you know it, your clitoris throbs and you can't help but cry out, "Oh god!" Your thighs shake as the orgasm takes over you, your back rising off the desk.

Professor Hiddleston pulls out of you, holding his cock in one hand. "I want you over the desk. Like in your story," he growls, licking his lips. You turn over and slide off the desk. He puts his hands on your back, holding you down, then kicks your legs apart and re-enters you roughly. "Oh, fuck. You feel incredible, darling. Give me your hands." You put your hands behind your back and he grabs them, his big hands curled around your wrists, restraining you from any movement. He pounds into you relentlessly, his cock stretching you, filling you. You can hear him panting, and suddenly he slows, taking a few very deep thrusts as he begins to come. "Fuck, darling, fuck!" He spills into the condom with a little spasm, collapsing onto you, his moist forehead against your cheek.

He stands up, depositing the condom in the trash as you look for your missing panties. "Professor Hiddleston?"

"I think you can call me Tom now."

"Tom. So… my grade?" You're smiling just a little, although you're honestly still nervous.

"A plus, darling." He kisses you softly, his hand at the nape of your neck. "Mmm… _definitely._"

"Umm… one more thing." You bite his neck tenderly, your lips caressing the curve of his jawline.

"Yes sweetheart?" His hands find your breasts, pinching through the cloth to your nipples. You're getting excited again already.

"Can you please delete that story now? Please?"

"On one condition." He moves his hand down, cupping your ass and squeezing it gently.

"Anything!"

With a cheeky grin, he replies, "We get to re-enact it again."


End file.
